


Hang a Right at Vol Dorma

by Ywain Penbrydd (penbrydd)



Series: A Comedy of Assholes (Rhapsody, etc.) [37]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Licking, M/M, i promised you pr0nz, moral philosophy in bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-03-28 01:07:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13893015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penbrydd/pseuds/Ywain%20Penbrydd
Summary: The journey from Kassel to Haven is a long one, most of it across hundreds of miles of treacherous, uninhabited desert. Fortunately, our heroes have devised ways to keep from being bored along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

They'd stopped to rest in the shelter of a steep stone rise, as the heat of the day became too much for travel, shielding the open face of their camp with ropes and rolls of canvas, as the merchant caravans did. Kinnon wished he dared just wrap the stone around them, but with Peryn there, it wasn't an option, making this journey over the desert that much more dangerous than the last. He watched Cormac and Anders settle in, easily, coiling around each other under a drape of cloth meant to shield them from the sun and sand. Fen'Din sat watch, and Kinnon knew it was because, of all of them, he could sleep on camelback.

"You will join me?" Peryn offered, holding up the edge of another not quite a tent, and Kinnon was quick to do just that, despite the crushing heat, easing his lanky height under the cloth, to curl up beside Peryn.

"Now, how could I turn down an offer like that?" Kinnon purred, sweat sticking his hair to his face and the back of his neck. He could hear faint whispering from the other side of their small camp, and the sound of cloth striking stone. "I think they have the right idea."

"Do you?" Peryn's hand travelled the length of Kinnon's leg, pushing up the thick, protective travelling robes. "Maybe they are. It is too warm for all this, yes?"

Kinnon groaned and shifted, dragging the robes off over his head, until he could wad them up as a pillow. The cool air in the shade of the stone felt refreshing against his skin, as it was interrupted only by the glowing heat of Peryn's fingers. 

"You're not really going to sleep in that, are you?" he asked, looking down the length of Peryn's robes, which he knew had leather beneath.

"How do you think I sleep, riding the river?" Peryn teased, eyes sparkling with amusement. "It is made for me, and I live in it."

"I know how I think you _should_ sleep." The corner of Kinnon's mouth tipped up, and he tugged at Peryn's belt. "Naked and pressed against me."

"Oh, but if I am naked, who will protect you if the bandits come? I am a warrior! You are but a Lay Brother." Peryn's eyes gleamed with the joke, and the rest of his face made no attempt to pretend seriousness.

"A Laid Brother, more like!" Cormac's voice drifted over from the other tent, pitched to be heard, and Kinnon turned bright red, gesturing for Peryn to keep his voice down.

"Not yet, I'm not!" Kinnon laughed, cheeks blazing.

"I still say you should let me draw you," Fen'Din said, perched in the shade between the tents and watching the camels rest against the windbreak.

"Draw Jan!" Kinnon buried his face in Peryn's robes, laughing in utter mortification.

"But, I always draw Jan!"

"Unlike some people, Jan doesn't mind being drawn," Anders boasted, "if only because Jan is also the sexiest Warden in Thedas, and everyone should be aware of that fact."

"There are zero situations in which that is true." Kinnon's face twisted in disgust, as he looked over his shoulder at the shadows beyond the cloth. "Solona wins every time."

"I left the pictures of Solona at home," Fen'Din muttered, already absorbed in another sketch of a camel.

As the silence settled in again, Peryn put a hand on Kinnon's cheek and laid a quiet kiss between his eyes. Kinnon still looked less than entirely thrilled, far less amused than he had before that conversation, but Peryn's hand continued to gently caress as much of Kinnon's skin as could be reached, and finally, Kinnon began to relax, his own hands tugging at Peryn's belt.

"Crazypants will protect us," Kinnon whispered against Peryn's neck, listening to the soft sounds of cloth and leather shifting as Peryn started unfastening his own buckles, much more quietly, now.

As the leather fell away, Peryn pressed a knee between Kinnon's thighs, smiling at the hitch in Kinnon's breath and the way his eyes warmed at the contact. Kinnon settled against that bare thigh, shoving Peryn's robes up and tossing the leather cuirass out from between them, before he buried his face against Peryn's neck, getting a deep breath of lyrium-sweat.

Kinnon froze, eyes closed, and took a few deep breaths, which did not improve the situation. This was the smell of a days-unwashed templar in one of the relentlessly hottest places in Thedas. He could taste the lyrium, even breathing through his nose.

But, this was also _Peryn_ , who was not just any templar. Peryn, whose hands had gentled against his stiffened spine, caressing but not holding him, as his breath grew shallow.

"I am sorry," Peryn murmured, trying to pull away, because he _knew_.

Kinnon shook his head, wordlessly, and pressed himself closer, rising higher on Peryn's thigh, until Peryn was tucked under his chin, which was how this usually went. "Just wanted it to be different, this time. It's not," he breathed, rocking his hips against the thick muscle of Peryn's leg. "Still good. Still want more. I can't be like this forever, right?"

And that was a word he hadn't expected out of his own mouth. _Forever_. Stupid. He was sure this wouldn't last. He didn't really want it to last -- a _templar_? Idiocy. Even Anders hadn't been this stupid. But, his breath still stuttered at every touch of Peryn's hands against his skin. This was a bad idea, but he wanted it. He wanted Peryn. Just for a little while. Just for right now. They'd drift apart, eventually. Peryn would get promoted out of his reach. An easy end.

But, for right now, he had this warm, soft templar nibbling at his chest, a thick thigh pressed against his bits. For right now, he wanted to believe the lyrium didn't matter.

Kinnon raised his hand to his mouth, but Peryn grabbed his wrist and turned it, wrapping his lips around two fingers and letting his tongue explore every nuance of the smooth skin. Maybe Kinnon hadn't figured on being covered in templar drool, but given the bodily fluids he'd expected to get on that hand, he couldn't exactly complain, as Peryn sucked and licked his way across those long fingers, leaving them dripping wet.

Catching Kinnon's uncertain look, Peryn smiled and dragged his tongue across Kinnon's palm, before releasing the hand with a coy smile. "I like your taste. One of us should do some licking, yes? I will do enough for both of us."

Kinnon giggled in disbelief, pressing his face against the top of Peryn's head as his cheeks flushed again, and he wrapped his wet hand around Peryn's knob, teasing with his thumb. "You know, the day I can do it, you're not going to be able to get my tongue off you," he whispered, just above the top of Peryn's ear.

"You are sure you are not a dog lord?" Peryn teased, nipping under Kinnon's chin. "That is what dogs do, yes? They put a tongue on everyone."

Kinnon shifted and the hand he was laying on pinched Peryn's hip. "I could just roll over and go to sleep, you know. Besides, _you're_ the one doing all the licking, here."

Peryn twitched and laughed, a warm sound that echoed off the rocks behind them. "Ah, too far. Let me make amends to you, Brother Kinnon."

With that, Peryn's thigh moved, to be replaced by his hand, Kinnon's balls settling into his palm, as his fingers massaged the skin behind them. His tongue flicked against Kinnon's sweat-salted chest, leaving trails no more damp than the warm skin.

Kinnon tossed a leg over Peryn's hip, pulling him closer, and his hand continued to stroke Peryn's knob, slowly, teasingly. "I want you," he breathed, rocking his hips against Peryn's insistent fingers, opening his own hand just enough to thrust his own knob into it, against Peryn's. Their wrists collided, bone on bone, and after a bit of squirming, Peryn switched hands.

"First I belong to the Maker, then I am yours to have," Peryn whispered, under Kinnon's chin.

Kinnon opened his mouth to make a joke about Andraste's sex life, but the words shattered and drifted away, as Peryn's fingers pressed up and back, between his thighs. A groan of pleasure caught in his throat, becoming a tiny, razor-edged sound of desperation. Unsticking his elbow from under his ribs, Kinnon brought his hand up to knead the soft flesh of Peryn's chest, fingers sinking in before they caught on the hard muscle beneath. His other hand quickened, wringing Peryn's knob against his own, as his hips twisted and bucked between his fingers and Peryn's.

It took every bit of Kinnon's will not to reach for the magic that pounded through him like a second pulse, not to let the flickers of raw power that flared against the inside of his fingertips dance across Peryn's skin. But, the clinging fog of lyrium-tinged sweat was enough to remind him that Peryn would not appreciate that touch. On the other hand, Peryn's quickening breaths spoke to his enjoyment of every other touch Kinnon visited upon him.

"Stay with me," Kinnon begged, almost silently, as his body shivered and writhed, and it was like he'd broken in three -- he felt himself draw Peryn closer, pressing skin on skin wherever they could touch; he heard the words falling from his lips; he couldn't change those things, but he could let himself enjoy them. "Just be with me. I want to wake up wrapped around you. I want to ride into Cumberland smelling of your sweat. We'll go to a brothel and pay beautiful women to lick you off my skin, and you can put it all right back."

Peryn pressed his open mouth to where Kinnon's neck became shoulder, stifling a lusty moan. One hand settled in the middle of Kinnon's back, holding his slender body firmly as Peryn rutted intently into the fist between them, feeling Kinnon's pulse squeezed tight against his flesh. "Your vows," he panted.

"Haven't taken them," Kinnon reminded him, touched that Peryn could even think it at a time like this, and it was that, of all of it, that tipped him over. Not that he'd admit it. No, if Peryn asked, it was the fingers between his thighs, kneading him in ways only Peryn had ever touched him.

His back arched and his hips angled back, ramming him down onto those fingers so hard he could see stars spangling the angled cloth beyond Peryn's head. One hand clutched at Peryn's chest like the fingers of a man sliding off a cliff, and his knob throbbed in the grip of the other. "I want you like this -- I want to wake up by your side -- in every nation in Thedas. Up against the wall of the Imperial Chantry in Minrathous, and we'll sneak away in the night like pirates. On the beaches of Antiva. The shores of Lake Calenhad."

A few more ragged breaths and Peryn spilled over Kinnon's already wet fingers. He shivered as his body slowly started to relax, the rhythm of Kinnon's pulse sending shocks of pleasure through his skin. As he eased his hand out from between Kinnon's still-clenched thighs, his voice came back to him. "Beautiful women in a brothel? What would the Maker say?" he teased.

"The Maker would say we should make sure they're not slaves, and then he would remind us he gave his second children the ability to take pleasure together," Kinnon decided, after a moment's thought, stretching his leg and letting the dry desert air sweep away the sweat where Peryn's hand had been. "And what calling is higher than making people happy?"

"Keeping people safe." Peryn offered a tiny smile and poked Kinnon's nose with the drier of his hands.

"That's more fundamental. If the people are safe and sheltered and fed, what do they still want? Happiness. Even for a little while. It's important. Happy people are too busy being happy to be jerks to each other." Kinnon opened his mouth to nip at the finger on his nose, but Peryn opened his hand, and Kinnon remembered as the smell of that sweaty palm hit him.

"You are not happy, then?" Peryn's hand moved down, settling at Kinnon's hip.

"You can't imagine how happy I am." Kinnon smiled and pressed a kiss between Peryn's eyes. "But, I like women, and I know you like women. I thought it might be nice to find some we could enjoy together. A treat, like pink wine and sunsets."

Peryn laughed loud enough to be heard outside the tiny tent, pulling Kinnon closer and resting a hand on his cheek. "Do you know you are wonderful? You are wonderful. You are the Maker's gift to me."

Anders finally interrupted after a series of retching sounds and Cormac's muffled giggles. "If you're going to a brothel, do it in Denerim! And tell them you know me. Well, tell them you know -- on second thought, I'll just go with you. If you're going to a brothel, I should pass around some potions first."

"Jan, the day I walk into a brothel with you..." Kinnon turned red, tucking his face under Peryn's cheek.

"If you walk into a brothel, it had better be with me, because I don't want to deal with you crying about whatever crotch rash you wound up with, without me," Anders drawled.

Peryn laughed again, patting Kinnon's back, gently. "It is a good friend who protects you from crotch rash."

Kinnon whined loudly, in irritation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time, something sweet.

The way forward seemed infinite, with no road to lead them, but only the endless blowing sands. The ride across the desert was a reminder of just how hard the Blights had hit the Anderfels, and just how crazy Orlais had been to try to claim that land. The further they got from the river, the harder the sun beat down, while they tried to rest in the hottest part of the day. Still, they pushed on, at night, hoping to reach Vol Dorma, and from there, an actual road.

Once, they'd found water -- a tiny oasis, studded with long-thorned brambles and wicked-looking black trees -- and Cormac had dismounted, ready to hack through it all, before Anders stopped him.

"It's blighted." Anders shook his head. "Don't get too close."

Cormac regretfully let the water pass, later casting ice spells into their reservoirs, while Peryn slept. They needed water, but they didn't need the Templar to know how they'd gotten it.

The land between the canyons spread out flat enough that it was easy to stop for a piss without holding up the whole party, and catch up in a few minutes. No one batted an eye, when Peryn peeled off to one side and stopped.

"Is that a fucking road?" Kinnon asked, kneeling forward in his saddle, squinting into the distance.

"If that's a road, we're in Tevinter," Anders pointed out, unfolding a map and puling out his lodestone. "And if we're in Tevinter, we're waiting for Peryn. The last thing we need is him getting carried off by some Magister's private army."

"Don't even joke, Jan." Kinnon rubbed his forehead and sighed, looking more exhausted than any of them. "I know it has to end some time, but not like that."

"And that's why we wait." Cormac tossed a yellow bottle into Kinnon's lap. "Have a sip. You'll feel better."

"It's the colour of piss," Kinnon muttered, holding the bottle up to the moonlight.

"If it's piss coloured, it's a stamina potion. It'll keep you awake." Fen'Din looked up from a sketch of some distant plateau. "Don't drink too many of them, or you'll probably die." He pointed at Anders. "That's what he says, anyway, but Karl was fine, that time. And the time after it. And that time we didn't tell you about because he didn't have time for a lecture. He had to ride out to Jainen the next morning."

"He what?" Anders's outrage bled out into a tired laugh as he tipped his head back and stared at the sky, the map forgotten in his hands. "It's a good thing he's dead, or he'd hear it now."

"So, really, don't drink too many, or you'll have to listen to him complain." Fen'Din gestured at Anders again, and Cormac cackled.

Peryn rode up on where they sat sniggering like fools and drew up beside Kinnon. "What did I miss?"

"Potion of piss," Kinnon helpfully informed Peryn, taking a swig, before he re-corked the bottle and tossed it to him.

Peryn looked distinctly concerned, as he examined the bottle.

"I'm kidding. It's a stamina potion, because you kept me up all day, and now I need help staying up to ride across this stupid, blighted desert."

"We all know what you'd rather be riding," Cormac teased. "You're not a quiet as you think you are."

"I'm quieter than you!" Kinnon shot back.

"Oh. Well." Peryn's eyebrows arced upward, and his eyes sparkled. "I should let you sleep, when we rest, yes? Then you will be more quiet and less tired." He surreptitiously opened the potion bottle and sniffed at the contents.

"That... You ... _could_." Kinnon nudged his camel forward, as they started toward what might be a road, in the distance.

"Oh, so you want to be loud and tired?" Peryn laughed, nudging his veils down to take a quick sip of the potion and setting it aside to fiddle with something in his lap.

"If you're loud and tired, there's no reason for me not to be!" Cormac called back from beside Anders.

"That's not actually encouraging!" Kinnon complained.

He wished he could be himself, with Peryn. Wished he could build a trail of little rest buildings across the desert, with thick stone walls, so he could enjoy Peryn in peace. It would be cooler, inside, too. They should have been making this trip in at least the sort of magical comfort Kinnon had known the last time he'd crossed the desert, but Peryn... Peryn wouldn't appreciate that, entirely because of the magic involved. Peryn would try to haul him back to Hossberg, and one of them would probably die. And that was not the end Kinnon wanted, so he kept those thoughts to himself, however much he wanted a shady hut and a cool bath.

"It's barely there, but it's stone!" Anders crowed, a couple hours later, pointing at the thing that might be a road. "It's a thousand years old, but it's the road to Vol Dorma!"

"Will we make it, tonight, do you think?" Peryn asked, his hands still working on something, nearly invisible in the dark.

"Probably tomorrow, but we'll stop when we get there. Take a night and a day in a place with a well and an inn." Anders groaned and stretched, imagining a day without a fear the winds would catch them unprepared. "I want to take a quick stop when we get to the road, though. Stretch a little, eat something. It'll be faster from there, and we're more likely to run into merchants."

"Which means we might get to eat something other than dates, jerky, and roast sand stalker," Cormac pointed out.

"Beer and mutton!" Kinnon sighed, dreamily.

Peryn leaned over and set something on Kinnon's head, perching it loosely on the cloth wrapped there, and Kinnon reached up to take it down and look.

"What--?" Kinnon asked, before he realised he was holding a crown woven of tiny yellow flowers on vines. "Where did you find these?"

"When I stopped, I saw bitter melon vines. They grow in the deep desert, and only fools eat them, but the flowers are pretty." Peryn smiled, and his teeth reflected the moonlight more brightly than his skin. "I think they look good on you."

"I can't see from up here!" Fen'Din huffed. "You have to show me when we stop."

"I think that's the only time anyone's ever given me flowers." Kinnon's voice cracked a bit, and he laughed to cover it. "We're riding through hundreds of miles of deadly desert, and you... you stopped to pick flowers for me."

"I ride down the river every day. It is not so different. Just less water. And better people." Peryn chuckled and shrugged. "You will wear it?"

"Will I wear it," Kinnon scoffed, calling out to the rest of the team, "Has anyone got a healing rune? Just a little one?"

"Check your hat," Anders called back. "I had them done in the Dwarven Quarter, before we left. It's so the sand won't peel your face off, before we get anywhere interesting. Why?"

"Because I bet I could keep these flowers alive with it." Kinnon unwrapped the veils from his neck and pulled off his thick headgear, poking between the rolls of cloth until he hit the rune. He closed his eyes and let the slightest trickle of magic rest in his fingertips as he felt around to see how it was rigged up.

Peryn watched intently. "How do you know so much of runes?"

"Everyone should know healing runes," Kinnon muttered, the magic instantly dissipating from his fingers. "Besides, I knew enough to buy you one, didn't I? Protection. I've had the opportunity to know some runesmiths -- this one was from Orzammar and everything!"

"Dagna," Fen'Din agreed. "She was trying to revolutionise the way we think about lyrium, on the surface and in the dwarven community. I don't think she'll be back in Orzammar for long -- we saw her there, coming up. Maybe Kal-Sharok will be more her style."

Kinnon tugged at the hat and the flowers until he managed to fit the crown between two rolls of cloth on the top of the hat, at which point he put the whole thing back on his head, wrapping the veils back around his neck, but not his face. "She's so incredible. Listening to her talk to the smiths... Listening to her talk to the King!"

"You and she were...?" Peryn inquired, watching Kinnon gaze into the distance.

"What?" Kinnon laughed, and every time he tried to say more, he laughed harder.

"No dwarves for you?" Peryn teased.

"No, I just... Dagna. That's... I don't think she's interested in anything but lyrium and forge hammers." Kinnon finally managed to stop cackling at the idea. "And if she is, she definitely wasn't looking at me."

"I would like to meet her," Peryn decided, nodding. "We have a strange relationship with runesmiths, here. I know the Tranquil, but the dwarves will not share their secrets. I believe there is so much more that could be made, if we could bring the two together. Runes are magic, but they are contained magic. They do one thing by piece. So many people might benefit from them, but the price is always so high, or the Grand Cleric refuses to put magic in the villages. It is always some reason we do not give people ice runes to cool their homes or storm runes to fill the cisterns."

"That one's actually dangerous," Anders called back from the front. "I haven't found a storm rune, yet, that doesn't come with lightning!"

"You see!" Peryn threw his hands up. "This is why we need everyone working together! Someone would find a way!"

"That's a pretty open view, for a Templar." Kinnon smiled at Peryn, over the veil tucked under his chin. "One of those things I like about you."

"Magic is meant to serve man. That is what it says in the Chant." Peryn folded his arms and sat up a little straighter. "But, people are so afraid of maleficars. They are afraid any hint of magic will lead to choosing -- making regular -- the bad uses. Mages are scary, when they are small. So much power in a little child. But, we teach them how to be safe and righteous, and many go to serve the Wardens. Magic must be controlled. But, I do not see why magic with no mages should not be used to help people. It is only a rune. There is no danger of demons or blood mages."

"You know I can't kiss you if you're on _that_ camel, right?" Kinnon teased, eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"Do not attempt to get on the same camel," Anders sighed, loudly. "We're almost at the road."

"Oh, have I said something worth kissing?" Peryn fluttered his eyelids in mock surprise. "Maybe I will have to say more things like that!"

"Say them in Vol Dorma," Anders begged, "behind closed doors."

"Oh, because you're one to talk!" Kinnon retorted, and laughter blossomed from the caravan, spilling out into the cool desert night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An inn in Vol Dorma, with a small Tevinter bath. Our protagonists argue the benefits of bathing and other pastimes.

Regardless of the size of the place, it was the last stop before the seemingly-endless sprawl of the Ander desert, a journey few were willing to take, when sending goods by sea was an option. Still, there were the usual amenities one could count on in a place once frequented by trade caravans, and a few more distinctly Tevinter touches.  
  
Cormac sank lower into the bath, sliding forward on the ledge until the back of his head rested on the tiled edge, so he could smile up at the woman who poured more wine into his chalice. "Maker watch over your family unto the eighth generation," he sighed, raising the icy cup to his lips. Heat runes in the bath and ice runes in the crockery. He could get used to this.  
  
"And the ninth and tenth," Kinnon agreed, ducking under the water and then pushing his hair back. "Why do we not have this in the Anderfels? When we get back, I know what I'm designing, next."  
  
Peryn laughed and shook his head, from where he lounged, half-dressed, on the edge of the bath. "No one will come to it. The King will send soldiers; the Grand Cleric will send Templars."  
  
"Well, if they're handsome Templars like you, am I really going to complain?" Kinnon wiped water out of his eyes with one hand and picked up his cup with the other.  
  
"No, not to use it. To close it down. It is not what we do, bathing together like this." Peryn reached up to accept a cool glass of water from a young man, who then busied himself folding towels.  
  
"He's right," Anders said, turning sideways to stretch his legs along the rest of the ledge he sat on. "Ander people aren't big on getting naked in public. It's up there next to prostitution on the list of things Andraste would not approve of. It's different for me, though. I'm a Warden. We get used to all kinds of things most people wouldn't tolerate." He shot a look at Peryn. "I'm surprised you even came down here, with us."  
  
Peryn offered a little half-shrug and held up his glass. "I am drinking water, not soaking in it. Who is going to protect you, while you are drunk and naked?"  
  
"Me," Cormac retorted, between swigs of icy wine. "Naked asskicking is a speciality of mine. You should come in. The water's perfect. I don't think I've been this relaxed since the last time I was in Amaranthine. ... Not that Amaranthine had baths like this. It's a shame. I wonder if we could introduce them in Ferelden."  
  
"Andraste has a mabari, in Ferelden. I'm pretty sure the ideas of what's appropriate are different." Anders chuckled and stretched his back. "But, you can't say they're Tevinter baths, or they'll run you out of town with pitchforks and torches."  
  
"Another thing in common between our homelands." Peryn smiled into his glass of water.  
  
"Sure, but there are less dogs in the Anderfels." Kinnon laughed and leaned back to poke Peryn's nose. "I'm not sure if that's a complaint."  
  
"Less dogs and more cats," Fen'Din observed, finally demonstrating he hadn't fallen asleep, where he floated in the middle of the pool, ankles crossed and hands folded on his chest. "I can see why Jan likes it better."  
  
"There are a hundred reasons to like it better," Anders huffed, slapping water at Fen'Din. "It's not wet, it's not cold, it doesn't smell like dog farts and mildew..."  
  
"No, instead it smells of cat pee and concentrated sweat," Kinnon shot back, taking a sip of wine before he shrugged. "I'll give you the other two, though."  
  
Peryn yawned dramatically, tipping his head back until he rolled onto his back, staring up at the canopy that covered most of the courtyard, shielding the cool bath from the sun and birds. "It is late and hot."  
  
"It would be less hot, if you'd get in the water," Fen'Din pointed out.  
  
"It would be less hot if you took your clothes off." Kinnon turned around, leaning both arms on the edge of the bath. "But, then I'd be more hot and then I'd make you more hot, so maybe that's not the answer."  
  
"It could be, if we go upstairs. I wonder if there are runes for cooling the rooms, too..." A sly smile crept across Peryn's face. "Maybe this is what we need -- a nice cold bed, in all this heat."  
  
The young man folding towels appeared at the side of the pool, offering one to Kinnon. "We assure our travellers their comfort is our foremost concern. The baths are available all night, should you decide the rooms are too warm to your liking." He cleared his throat. "Though we do ask that you clean up after yourselves, at least a bit. We had a magister's entourage--"  
  
"Flavian!" a woman with a wine jug snapped.  
  
"Well, it's true!" the young man complained, as Kinnon lifted himself out of the bath and swiped the proffered towel. "I didn't say his name! That's not important! What's important is that he was a pig!"  
  
"You can't say that about the guests, Flavian!" the woman scolded.  
  
Anders grinned wickedly at Cormac. "You heard the man, Mack, don't leave the sheets all bloody."  
  
Cormac pinched Anders sharply, watching him squirm and cackle. "When have I ever!? Artie would kill me! You're the one who can roll over and go to sleep in it!"  
  
"I'm a Warden! I've had worse!" Anders wheezed and squirmed, whooping like a loon, as Cormac kept pinching and poking.  
  
"They're a mess; we're not," Kinnon explained to Flavian, as he knotted the towel around his hips.  
  
"Bloody...?" Peryn asked, yawning out the word as he struggled to sit back up.  
  
"Mack's gross, but he does his own washing, so nobody cares." Kinnon shrugged, watching Fen'Din finally take issue with the turbulence in the water, slamming his foot against Cormac's shoulder. Kinnon caught the brief flicker of magic, at the impact, where the shield caught the blow, but a glance at Peryn suggested he hadn't. It could just be the sun on the flying droplets of water, he supposed, and Cormac had been hiding from Templars his whole life.  
  
"I'm gross? Me?" Cormac sputtered, grabbing Fen'Din's foot and flipping him over in the water. "You're the one licking the lyrium lolly, and then making sad faces about the taste!"  
  
Peryn didn't quite follow. "He does not lick lyrium...?"  
  
A flash of red lit Kinnon's cheeks like the sunburn he'd so far managed to avoid. "No. There is no licking of lyrium, and definitely not that lyrium. I don't-- ew! Mack! _Why_?" He huffed and bent down to offer Peryn his hand. "You look exhausted. Do I need to carry you?"  
  
Peryn took the hand, slowly dragging himself to his feet, and almost pulling Kinnon down, at one point. "Do I need my strong Chantry Brother to carry me to bed?" He chuckled, dizzily, wrapping an arm around Kinnon's waist. "Maybe you should have been the Templar with that strength, hm? No, I am just tired. A rest in a cool bed, and I will be strong enough for both of us."  
  
Kinnon hummed, unconvinced. "Excuse us, we're going to go have a nice quiet nap that doesn't involve anyone making a mess. I'm looking at the sun, and we all should have been asleep hours ago."  
  
"I thought _that_ wasn't allowed in the Southern Chantry," Flavian observed, gesturing after the two lurching toward the arcade that shielded the doors leading back in.  
  
"It's not," Fen'Din sighed, letting himself float toward the recently-vacated side of the bath.  
  
"They're in love." Anders shrugged. "What do they care?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night falls, and Peryn decides that bathing isn't such a terrible idea.

Kinnon woke to cool, dry sheets against his skin, the desert breeze almost cold when it licked through the window. It was a simple relief after so many days of sleeping in sweat and sand. But, none of this was what had woken him, he realised, as the bed settled next to him, when Peryn sat down.

"You were up?" Kinnon asked, suddenly less bleary and far more focused on the subtle shifts of moonlight in the room, where the shadows from the trees outside played across the walls. "What happened?" _Why didn't it wake me?_ he didn't ask.

"It was time." Peryn shrugged and ran his fingers down Kinnon's arm, the other hand setting an empty phial on the nightstand. "The body does not like to wait. I did not mean to wake you."

"It's the right time? You're all right?" Kinnon rolled onto his side and rested a hand on Peryn's thigh.

"It's late." Peryn laughed quietly, a small, warm smile on his lips. "I was very tired. Finally, it was very insistent. It is just my head. I will be well."

"I've got a potion in my bag," Kinnon murmured, leaning closer to press a small kiss against Peryn's spine, just above his hips.

"Not yet. Later it will help. Now it will be worse." Peryn reached back and ran his fingers through Kinnon's hair. "I have looked from the window. I do not think anyone is in the baths, this late. Maybe that would help."

"Oh, _now_ you want to go to the baths?" Kinnon laughed and kissed Peryn's back, again.

"Now, no one is looking who shouldn't be. I would not be sharing the water with someone I would not share my bed with." Peryn's smile widened just a bit, his eyes sparkling.

"And the water will make your skin less f--" Kinnon cleared his throat. "You'll smell less like lyrium, once you soak."

"It would be good for you, yes? After so many days, you will still lie with me, because you are strong in the mind and hard in the head."

"Hard in some other things, too," Kinnon muttered, considering the proposition.

"Will you join me?" Peryn asked, reaching for the driest of his freshly-washed underrobes.

"Blightwolves couldn't keep me away." Kinnon peeled the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around himself.

* * *

"Everyone else is going to wake up soon," Kinnon noted, pointing at the sky as they came out into the courtyard.

"No, everyone else stayed up all day, instead of going to sleep before it got hot." Peryn grinned as he glanced around to be sure they were alone. "They will sleep for hours, yet. We will not leave until tomorrow night, I think."

"You planned this, didn't you?" Kinnon let the sheet fall from his shoulders, stepping closer to poke Peryn in the chest. "Lounging by the pool and playing coy with me, just so you could get me out here alone."

"I may have thought on it, but you would come anyway." Peryn stepped back and pulled off his robe, hanging it on one of the pegs jutting from a trellis.

Kinnon snorted. "You know me that well, at least."

"I know you much better, I hope." Peryn stopped short of putting his arms around Kinnon's waist, stepping toward the warm pool, instead.

Kinnon took three quick steps and plunged into the water, tucking his legs up, after he hit the surface, and ducking under before he rose up and held out one hand to where he remembered Peryn being as he wiped his eyes with the other. "Two baths in one day. It's a luxury!"

"One bath in one day," Peryn retorted, splashing water at Kinnon, as he climbed down the steps, easing into the water.

"And that almost makes me miss Ferelden. Almost." The corner of Kinnon's mouth turned up in a half smile as he closed a hand on Peryn's arm, drawing him closer.

"Only almost? You make it sound so nice when you talk." Peryn leaned back, lifting his feet to float.

"It's wet, it's cold, and it smells like wet dogs." Kinnon laughed, pouring water over Peryn's chest. "Other than that, it's great."

"Wet dogs, dry dogs, it is all dogs, yes?" Peryn's eyes closed as water and Kinnon's hands warmed his skin.

"Obviously spoken by a man from a nation with no native dogs!" Kinnon scoffed, flicking water at the side of Peryn's face. "Dogs are horrible, when they're wet. They smell like everything they ever rolled in, but more of it. And then they lie on things, and the smell just never quite goes away. I like dry dogs just fine. Even wet horses smell better than wet dogs."

"Well, you are a horse lord, yes? You would know this." Peryn chuckled quietly, the warm water soothing against his back, as the smell of the journey soaked out of him.

"I would." Kinnon nodded, pretending, for the moment, that he knew more about horses than maybe that and two or three other things. "You should take my word for it."

"And are you also knowing when it comes to baths?" Peryn teased. "You come from a place where two baths in a day can be had!"

"I'm afraid I took all of my baths alone." Kinnon sighed, dramatically. "We'll have to discover the benefits of bathing together. Oh, what work we have ahead of us! So much research!"

"Are you not a Brother of the Chantry? Research and contemplation must be easy to you." Peryn couldn't quite hold back a smile.

"Of course!" Kinnon clutched one of Peryn's hands to his bare chest. "But, I've never before had the opportunity to work with a well-trained Templar. Such a ... beacon of strength and stamina, and with what this research entails, I'm sure even that will be tested!"

Peryn laughed so hard he had to stand back up to avoid sinking. He slid his arms around Kinnon's waist, still chuckling. "So, this will be a difficult research?"

"I don't know about difficult, but I definitely hope it's hard!" Kinnon quipped, hands coming to rest on Peryn's ass.

The joke took a moment to sink in, and then Peryn was laughing again. "Well, Brother Kinnon, maybe that is the first part, yes? Making it hard?"

"Well, I don't think that's going to be difficult." Kinnon smiled and rubbed his cheek against Peryn's face, as he delivered that punchline.

"The only way to find out is testing it, yes? This is what I know from when I watched mages make new things." Peryn turned his head, kissing behind Kinnon's ear.

"Should always start with something you know works," Kinnon replied, pressing his thigh between Peryn's legs. "Then you know exactly where it stopped working, if things go wrong."

"You are very wise and very handsome," Peryn began, but the rest of the thought left his mouth in Ander, as Kinnon's hands pulled him closer against the flexing thigh between his own.

Those were the last words between them, for a time, as Peryn nudged Kinnon back against the one wall of the bath without seats, just beside the steps, shifting his balance to retaliate with his own leg. Kinnon slid one foot aside to make it easier, holding Peryn tight against him, even as his hands stroked and squeezed Peryn's body, tipping his head back as Peryn's kisses littered his neck.

"Let's take a day in Nevarra," Kinnon breathed, as one of Peryn's hands slipped between them, clutching at his chest. "Go to the shore. I want to watch the sun set over the Waking Sea." He rolled the muscle in his thigh as Peryn's lips and hands teased his skin. "I want to watch the light and the water and my hands on your skin."

"Always you have sweet words." Peryn rocked his hips against Kinnon's thigh, fingers digging into Kinnon's chest, marvelling as usual at the shallowness of the flesh. "Sweet like your kisses and your deeds."

Kinnon chuckled, breathlessly, the laugh trailing off in a warm moan as Peryn's hand displaced his thigh, fingers so much more delicate and precise. 'Delicate', Kinnon thought, was a strange choice of word for a hand long sword-callused, but somewhat less so when the point of comparison was a thick, muscular thigh. And then thoughts began bypassing his mind entirely and passing straight out of his mouth, as so often happened with Peryn's hands on him.

"Run away with me. We can keep a shrine by the seaside. Nevarra's a thousand miles from your people or mine. A shrine to Hector, struck down for his love of the Prophet. And every night you can seize my sword and strike me down." As the words passed his lips, Kinnon wondered if that translated _at all_. From the sudden snicker against his neck, he guessed it did.

"And will you help me to polish my Sword of Mercy?" Peryn joked, his legs gripping Kinnon's thigh tighter as he ground himself against it.

"Until it shines like the windows of the Grand Cathedral," Kinnon promised, legs trembling as he writhed between Peryn and the wall of the bath.

He tried to ignore his certainty that Anders was going to step out of the shadows of the building, any minute, hoping for a late-night bath, and instead wind up with an eyeful of all of this, any of this. Not that Anders hadn't seen him naked. Not that everyone in Kinloch Hold hadn't seen Anders naked. But, bringing Peryn into it seemed too much. If it were Candles, he was sure he'd have had nearly no objections, if only because she could take care of herself and him, and he knew it. Peryn, though... Despite the fact he knew Peryn got around, Kinnon counted himself as one of the few people -- few in terms of the population of the entire Lattenfluss valley, anyway -- who got to see this, to experience Peryn this way. And he wanted to keep at least some of that to himself.

Kinnon felt the sudden cold breath in, Peryn's mouth opening against his neck, the flat touch of teeth as Peryn clung to him, legs tight. He could feel the pulse against his thigh and the way Peryn's hands squeezed and stroked him far less gently. Another few breaths and Peryn draped loosely against Kinnon, barely standing lopsided on one foot, the water holding him up. His hands continued their rough handling of Kinnon's flesh, his lips pressed against Kinnon's neck, every gasp and gulp of air between them obvious.

"Might have to carry me back inside... But, I want to fall asleep in your arms, not just tonight, but all the nights until the Maker returns to the world and there is no more night. I'll watch the sun rise over your shoulder in the morning. Except we're riding out tonight. I'll watch the sun rise over your shoulder as we fall asleep. I want to be with you. I want you. _Peryn_!" Words poured out of Kinnon's mouth, as he finally throbbed against Peryn's palm.

"I wish we lived in a world where all your dreams were true," Peryn breathed, pulling Kinnon with him as he leaned back, aiming for the bench that wrapped around three of the four sides of the bath. They should sit, he knew, or at least float. He could barely hold himself up, and Kinnon had been his support until that moment.

Kinnon let himself drift, settling into Peryn's lap. "I'd like that world, but I think we're stuck in Thedas."

"It is not so bad," Peryn decided. "In Thedas, I still have you."

**Author's Note:**

> As with most of the shorts in this series, more chapters depend on your votes in the monthly poll.


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